The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
when thou hast taken thy last applause, and whenthe final curtain strikes the world away,leaving to shadowy silence and dismaythat stage which shall not know they smile again,lingering a little while i see thee thenponder the tinsel part they let…
“kitty”. sixteen, 5’ 1”, white, prostitute. ducking always the touch of must and shall,whose slippery body is Death’s littlest pal, skilled in quick softness. Unspontaneous. cute. the signal perfume of whose unreputefocusses in the sweet slow animalbottomless eyes importantly banal,…
when you rang at Dick Mid’s Placethe madam was a bulb stuck in the door.a fang of wincing gas showed howhair,in two fists of shrill colour,clutched the dull volume of her tumbling facescribbled with a big grin. her sow-eyes clicking…
ladies and gentlemen this little girlwith the good teeth and small important breasts(is it the Frolic or the Century whirl?one’s memory indignantly protests)this little dancer with the tightened eyescrisp ogling shoulders and the ripe quite toolarge lips always clenched…
goodby Betty, don’t remember mepencil your eyes dear and have a good timewith the tall tight boys at Tabari’s,keep your teeth snowy,stick to beer and lime,wear dark,and where your meeting breasts are roundhave roses darling,it’s all i ask of you—but…
the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished soulsare unbeautiful and have comfortable minds(also,with the church’s protestant blessingsdaughters,unscented shapeless spirited)they believe in Christ and Longfellow,both dead,are invariably interested in so many things—at the present writing one still findsdelighted fingers knitting for…
at the head of this street a gasping organ is waving moth-eatentunes. a fatish hand turns the crank;the box spouts fairies,outof it sour gnomes tumble clumsily,the little box is spilling ran-cid elves upon neat sunlight into the flowerstricken air…
any man is wonderfuland a formulaa bit of tobacco and gladnessplus little derricks of gesture any skyscraperbulges in the looseness of morningbut in twilight becomesunutterably crisp a thing,which tightenscaughtin the hoisting light any woman is smooth and ridiculousa polite uproar…
i am going to utter a tree, Nobodyshall stop me but firstearth ,the reckless oral darknessraging with thin impulse i will have a dream i think it shall be roses andspring will bring herworms rushing through loam.…
into the strenuous briefnessLife:handorgans and Aprildarkness,friends i charge laughing.Into the hair-thin tintsof yellow dawn,into the women-coloured twilight i smilinglyglide. Iinto the big vermillion departureswim, sayingly; (Do you think?)thei do,worldis probably madeof roses & hello: (of solongs and, ashes)